


Sick Day

by guardami



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Caring, Caring!Derek, F/M, Fluff, Sick!Penelope, Sickfic, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardami/pseuds/guardami
Summary: Morgan will take on anything for Garcia - even the flu.
Relationships: Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 140





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill, one is sick, the other takes care, tooth rotting fluff. Humour me!
> 
> Edit - I should add there is no canon Garcia/Kevin here.

Garcia woke and immediately squeezed her eyes back together. The sunshine coming through her window pressed in all too hard, she thought. She felt as though she were on a boat, swaying from side to side, and somehow there was a marching band playing relentlessly in her head. 

Penelope hated to admit it, but she was sick. The flu struck her down so that going to the bathroom felt like a monumental task, and she found herself cursing the bright colours that decorated her home. 

As she crawled back into bed, she managed to grab her cell phone from the night stand, collapsing back onto the pillows and tugging as many blankets as she could on top of her. 

She found Hotch’s number and felt the familiar feeling of going to the principal's office brewing in her stomach. She knew he wouldn’t be mad. She knew he wouldn’t be, but still, she would never not be a tiny bit scared of him.

“Hotchner,” he answered, straight away. 

“Sir,” she said, and on hearing her own voice, she grimaced. “I’m really, really, eternally sorry but-” 

“You sound terrible,” he said. 

“Right,” she said, knowing that was his way of saying she sounded sick. 

“Take all the time you need, Penelope,” he said, and hung up. 

She frowned at the blank screen on her phone and it turned into an amused roll of her eyes. Of course he was fine about it, but of course it had been dealt with efficiently and curtly. 

She settled back down into bed, a weight off of her shoulders knowing that she shouldn’t expect a Hotch Glare on return. The thought made her chuckle in an illness induced delirium as she drifted back to sleep. 

She was awoken some time later, and her heart leapt to her throat as she was filled with fear, the door sounded as if it was about to be broken off of its hinges. 

She wrapped herself in a blanket like a cloak and found her glasses, cursing as she knocked them from the night stand and scrabbled to retrieve them. 

The hammering continued and she crept to the door, hands curled to her chest holding the blanket tight.

“Penelope, if you don’t open this damn door-” 

She let out a sigh of relief as she recognised Morgan’s voice. 

She opened the door and stood there, eyebrows raised as he stood, fist in the air, ready to knock again. 

“You’re a moron, you know,” she said grumpily as she moved to let him in. 

“Why weren’t you at work today?” he asked, coming in and dumping his bag down on her couch unceremoniously.

She looked down at herself, her blanket and pyjamas and slippers. “You can’t profile that looking at me right now, hotshot?” 

“Well now that I’m here,” he huffed. “Obviously, you’re sick.” 

She coughed and gave a little shiver, wishing she was back in bed. “Hotch didn’t say? I called this morning.” 

“He was in meetings all morning,” Morgan shrugged. “I only knew when I tried to call and ended up calling that guy Kevin ‘angel’.” 

She laughed, her chest hurting with a wheeze. “I’m sure he loved that.” 

“Hey, he should take it as a compliment, not everyone is worthy of my charms,” he grinned, sitting down on her couch. 

“Don’t you have to get back to the office?” she busied herself, heading into the kitchen to try and clear up, or to find something to do rather than look at him when she felt like a pile of garbage. 

“Nah,” he called after her. “Got a laptop and a stack of work from our kind leader, thought I’d camp out here.” 

She turned around and saw him, pulling things out of his bag: laptop, files, pen, water bottle. “You don’t have to do that,” she said softly. 

“I don’t,” he admitted, “but I want to.” 

“I…” she didn’t know what to say, she had never known friendship as kind as Derek’s. “Thank you.”

“I’ll look after you babygirl,” he said, throwing a smile her way. “Go sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

True to his word, he was there when she woke up, shuffling out in fresh pyjamas. She smiled, taking in him sitting on her couch, his feet propped up on her coffee table as he read a file, a light frown on his forehead. 

“Hey,” she said softly, announcing herself, standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

“Hey!” his face lit up in a grin, he immediately moved his laptop and paperwork onto the table. “How are you feeling?” He gestured, telling her to come sit, which she did and perched on the sofa beside him. 

“Like a trash goblin,” she groaned. 

“Baby,” he murmured. “Why don’t you bring blankets in here? Camp out on the couch with me?” 

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” she said, covering a cough with her arm. 

He snorted, reaching out and pulling her properly onto the couch. “Like I’m giving you a choice.” 

She grinned, relaxing back into the couch, and let her eyes drift shut as Morgan replied to messages on his phone. He let out a sigh and her eyes opened as he felt him pick up her legs and pull them into his lap. He rested a hand comfortably on her ankle. 

“Mind if I put the TV on?” he asked, casually. 

“Sure,” Penelope agreed, making herself more comfortable with the blankets and pillows she copiously decorated her home with. 

They watched the most terrible reality TV for a while, laughing and judging and chatting until Penelope started to feel a little more human, despite her cough and running nose still going strong. 

She became aware of Derek’s fingers drifting in circles around her skin. They had always been affectionate, but when she was ill and had woken alone and ready to spend a few days sick and sad and lonely, she was more grateful for him than ever. 

He ordered Japanese for them for dinner, ordering her to try and eat something. They sat in front of her TV still, fighting with their chopsticks for the last dumpling, and she felt miles better after a huge bowl of ramen soup, steamy and hot to calm her throat. 

He stood to clear the boxes and bowls from her table, and she reached up to grab his hand. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. 

“For dinner?” he laughed. “Mama, we all gotta eat.” 

“For taking care of me.” 

He bent down until they were eye to eye, his hand on her knee to keep steady. “Pen, you’ve been taking care of me on every case since we started working together. Soup and company is only a small repayment.” 

He reached up and brushed her cheek with his fingers, giving her a small, genuine smile before standing and picking up the rubbish.

They settled back onto the sofa again, with nowhere else to go, and channel hopped with Penelope barely able to focus on the TV. “Sleep if you need to, babygirl,” Morgan whispered, watching her try to keep her eyes open. “Your body is trying to get better.” 

“But you’re here,” she said and her eyes, so tired and so heavy, made him smile. 

“Come here,” he laughed, unable to resist reaching out for her. “Sleep here, then, if that’s what you need.” 

Before she knew it she was in the circle of his arm, head on his chest. His hand stroked over her arm in the softest, most gentle motion, instantly relaxing her. 

“I love you,” she murmured, as sleep claimed her. 

“I love you too,” he said, and it was so simple and sweet as ever.

\-- 

She woke in the middle of the night, head pounding as she woke, coughs erupting immediately. She sat up, covering her mouth and muffling her coughs as much as possible and looked around her. 

Derek sat sleeping up, a talent most BAU agents refined over the years, his head tipped forward onto his chest. She dearly wanted to go back to bed, her legs aching from where they had curled at the end of the sofa. 

She stood, and looked down at Derek guiltily. She couldn’t leave him like that, so gently reached out and tried to pull him into lying down. 

It worked and she smiled, pleased as he stretched out on the couch, settling onto his stomach. She dragged a blanket over him and then turned to go back to bed. 

As she turned she felt fingers touch her own. 

“P.” He said into the dark, his voice was heavy and rumbly with sleep. 

“Yeah?” 

“I do love you, girl,” she tried to see in the dark, his eyes were closed, but she didn’t know if he was fully asleep. 

“I know,” she said, “I love you too,” she repeated their exchange from earlier in the evening. 

He turned his head and she saw he was awake. 

“No, I love you,” he said, voice heavy on the ‘love’. She felt nerves climb up her ribs and take over her heart. 

“What?” Her voice caught in her throat. 

“If you weren’t sick I would have totally tried to kiss you on the couch.” His smile, or what she could see of it, was faint. “It’s probably for the best right? That we don’t?” He sounded unsure. 

“Um..” she wished she weren’t sick, so she could think clearly. “I mean..” 

“You know what? I don’t care about getting sick,” he said, and she felt him grip her hand as he sat up and pulled her down to him. 

“Derek, I think-” 

“What?” he asked and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “Tell me, before I kiss you and don’t stop.” 

She couldn’t find the words, she didn’t want to. She carefully reached out, taking her hand with his own. 

He smiled, reaching up and scooping her face with his other hand. He kissed her, sweet and tender, before looking at her, at her red nose and tired eyes. “I love you,” he repeated. 

“You keep saying that,” she blushed. 

“Because I’ve been waiting to say it for years,” he murmured, catching her in another kiss. 

“Hotch is gonna kill you if you’re off sick too,” Garcia said, hands curling into Morgan’s t-shirt in a nervous habit. 

“Screw Hotch,” Morgan said, tugging Penelope closer.


End file.
